


Clothes Make the Man

by jovialien



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 08:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jovialien/pseuds/jovialien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had taken Ianto time to get used to the idea, but now he welcomed the opportunity to dress the part for Jack - and leave Ianto Jones behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clothes Make the Man

It had taken him time to get used to this, but he had to admit that it helped.   
  
There was something about the process of putting on his outfit that centred his mind and got him in the right mood. As he put on each piece he ran through his plans for the evening, deciding exactly what he wanted from Jack this time. As he fastened the large silver buckles over the thick soled boot covering his right calf he pictured making Jack kiss over the black leather, his lips and tongue marking the softly shining material, his breath misting lightly over the smooth curve of the toe. Yes, they would start there tonight.   
  
Smoothing down the tight black shorts he checked his reflection in the mirror, imagining how he would tease Jack with what he could see but not touch. The fabric left very little to the imagination and he knew just how much that turned Jack on. Adjusting himself, he grinned at the soft outline of his cock through the material, lying dormant for now, waiting patiently, ready for action when the time came. Speaking of waiting...    
  
Ianto glanced at the “toy box” tucked discreetly into the corner, the plain metal tin not attracting any attention but holding a wealth of mysteries within. Yes, with a little help from the box, something in leather to match his outfit perhaps, Jack would be waiting tonight too - but far from patiently he was sure.   
  
Pulling on the skin tight, red, sleeveless top, Ianto ran his hands over his bare arms and flexed experimentally, checking how he would look with his hand raised high, ready to bring it down, hard, onto Jack's skin. It took him just a moment to remove his watch and check his black painted nails were smooth, brushing the tips across his palm to check them, imagining his fingers pinching Jack's nipples hard, the smooth edges of his nails leaving subtle imprints on his flesh, soft crescents dug deep into Jack's chest.   
  
Ianto had never paid much attention to his nails before meeting Jack, but the importance of smooth fingernails was something he never underestimated now. A quick brush with a nail file took off a slight snag and, as he looked at the rough metal tip of the file, he pictured the knife they used for play, its edges dulled but impressive looking enough for the game - and still sharp enough to do a little damage, should they so choose. Yes, the knife might be fun too...   
  
Putting the file down, Ianto returned to the mirror and checked out the overall effect. It was easier for women, just add any PVC or leather underwear and a pair of heels and they were instantly the perfect dominatrix. It was harder for him, especially as he found leather too hot to really wear, but this look was just enough. Simple but empowering. Jack certainly seemed to enjoy it anyway.   
  
Content, Ianto reached for the long leather strap dangling over the top of the glass. It was just a simple, ordinary dog lead but it was perfect for their needs. He ran his fingers along its length, feeling the soft edges of the stitching contrast against the smooth leather. Wrapping the lead around his wrist loosely, he clipped the end to the loop of the hand hold to fasten it and looked at the way it stood out against his pale skin like a dark snake caressing his wrist, waiting for its chance to strike. Perfect.    
  
He could see the matching collar hanging on the other side of the mirror and reached for it, his fingers gripping it tight as he imagined it on Jack's bare neck, the way he would look up, the leather strap and metal hoop on his throat, linking him to his master... Jack may already be waiting ready for him in the next room, docile and patient, but the game would not really begin until that collar was around his neck.    
  
There was something about that moment, the way Jack would kneel submissively and offer himself to Ianto, accepting the collar as a sign of his ownership, that made Ianto shiver with anticipation. It didn't really matter to him that Jack flirted with others; this was a side of himself that Jack would only share with him, for as long as they could. And it was a side to himself that he had only begun to discover with Jack, but one he was already increasingly comfortable with. It was just another side to his sexuality, and one he was happy to explore.   
  
Almost ready, Ianto leaned in close to the mirror and checked his eyes, the soft smudge of black eyeliner a subtle touch but one that helped him complete his outfit. In his own mind it was the equivalent of Superman's glasses or Batman's mask, the black kohl hiding the real Ianto Jones beneath and bringing out his darker, stronger persona.   
  
Slipping the collar around his wrist to keep it safe, Ianto reached out for the final part of his ensemble. The plain black riding crop was old, its leather slightly cracked with age, and he didn't dare ask where Jack had got it. But he could still remember the first time Jack had given it to him, watching him so carefully as he unwrapped it, trying to gauge his reaction, seeing if it was a step too far. He could also remember the first time he used it on Jack, the sound and power of it getting them both off almost too quickly, but he had learned how to control them both properly since then.   
  
Whacking the crop against his palm to test it, Ianto looked at himself in the mirror and grinned wickedly, the glaze of red across his lips his final secret. He had grinned like this when he had opened the parcel too, using the tip of the crop to hook under Jack's chin and bring him closer, asking just one question that made his lover laugh in delight.   
  
_Does it come in red too?_   
  
Taking a deep breath, Ianto tapped the crop against his thigh and grabbed the toy box, the weight reassuring in his palm. With one last glance in the mirror, Ianto Jones ceased to exist, a new persona taking over as he headed for the door and his prey,  _his_  Jack. He was no longer the mild mannered archivist and alien hunter, not the tea boy or a part time shag, not the one taking orders and cleaning up their shit. Tonight he was going by another name.   
  
Tonight, he was simply  _Sir_ .

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to livejournal  
> http://jovialien.livejournal.com/230131.html


End file.
